


An Odd Request

by AndromedaCat



Category: Jeremy Brett's Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-26 20:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20395471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndromedaCat/pseuds/AndromedaCat
Summary: I have a week with less work than usual so am going to attempt another writing challenge. As summer makes me think Sherlock Holmes, especially the Jeremy Brett series, I'm writing in that world.Written from John Watson’s point of view.Holmes gets a letter asking him not to investigate a missing persons case that may be put before him. Curiosity leads Holmes and Watson on a bit of an adventure.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a cold January evening as I sat in my chair at Baker street. The fire was bright and warm, attempting to keep the frost at bay behind the windows as Holmes tinkered with one of his numerous chemical experiments. Feeling lazy and sleepy with the warmth from the fire, I stretched out my legs and watched him at his work. There had been no new cases to engage his interest for a few days, and Holmes was beginning to get restive and irritated. The day’s papers had been discarded one after another when they failed to produce any news that could start off a new investigation, the lot of them being thrown into the fire with Homes’ curse. At length, he had begun a series of chemical analyses to keep himself occupied. I had read through most of the afternoon, my last records of his cases having been finished earlier that afternoon and duly sent to the publisher, much to Holmes’ annoyance. 

I sat smoking, watching Homles manipulate beakers and powders while muttering under his breath. Eventually he could stand it no longer. “It won’t do, Watson!” he cried, brushing his chair back and striding around the room. “An economic slump, trade disputes, military scandals and petty crimes should be enough to engage a mind, but there is nothing! It is not so cold as that there are no murderers walking the streets or plots being hatched in multiple ale houses in this city. The London criminal must be a hibernating animal.” 

“The rest of London may be grateful for that,” I said. “Despite the chill, the feeling of security must be welcome.”

“What security?” asked Holmes. “It is an illusion. Fools would assume they are safe and relax their usual precautions, making them even easier prey. The criminals would be all the more desperate and hurried, taking little pains to conceal their crimes in favour of a quick scape and minimal exposure to the elements.”

“Perhaps you would do well to turn your mind to fiction,” I suggested.

“Foolish stories relying too heavily on chance and romance,” snapped Holmes.

“What about writing your own, then?” I continued. “Surely you could come up with something that, while engaging and true to reality, would not serve as an instruction manual to the criminal masses.”

“To create a mystery is to cheat at that same mystery,” Holmes replied, ceasing his pacing and standing before the hearth. “I would know all of the secrets, the alibis and motivations. The only real interest there is to put the finished product before an audience and observe their struggles at they attempt to reason and understand the crime. My patience extends to you, and at times Lestrade, but I am unwilling to coddle an entire country as they grapple with simple logic and deduction. Although,” he added, with a slight smile, “Their reactions could prove quite comical.”

The peal of the doorbell echoed through the house, causing Holmes to pause. “It is not for nothing that a letter arrived on such a night as this. Given the post is not due, this may be of some importance.”  
“Perhaps it is Lestrade?” I suggested.

“Not likely,” Holmes replied. “I have started him on the Burgoin minting problem. If he managed to follow my advice, which I suspect he will do out of reluctance, he should be well on his way to intercept the delivery of counterfeit currency. This is too great a feather in his cap to miss, but not so difficult that he would need a secondary visit to me.”

Billy the page entered the room, bearing a letter on a silver tray. “Who was that at the door, Billy?” Holmes inquired.

“I don’t know, Mr. Holmes,” Billy replied. “A scruffy looking man, said he’d found the letter on the ground and thought to deliver it. He was muffled up, sir, I didn’t see his face.”

“No matter, thank you, Billy.” Said Holmes

As Billy withdrew, Holmes was busy tearing the letter open. He read it quickly, then passed me the letter with a look of amusement. “Here, Doctor. See what you make of this.”

I took the letter and examined it. Written in a slightly rough hand ran a short message. 

Dear Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson,  
There may soon be an appeal to you to help locate a woman from overseas. I must ask you not to accept the case, for you put her in great danger if you do. There may be an appeal to you to suggest that she is in danger from herself. That is only true if she is going to be captured. I beg of you, DO NOT ACCEPT THE CASE.

I placed the letter down on the table. “This is extremely vague, Holmes. Do you suspect a hoax?” I asked.

“I suspect a mystery.” He replied. “At the very least, a small puzzle to-”

At this the bell rang again. This was shortly followed by Billy’s voice and that of a grown man, before Billy appeared again, this time bearing a card upon the tray.

“Who do we have here,” Holmes mused. “Elion Dialas. Not at all a common name.”

“He said he wanted to would take a case for him, sir,” Billy said. “To find a lady who’s gone missing.”

“Did he now. Does he at all look like the man who delivered the letter a few minutes ago?”

“Not at all, sir,” Billy replied. “That man was shorter and darker.”

“Well then,” said Holmes, with a an expression that belied an interest in this little mystery. “Let’s have the gentleman up and see what he has to say. Stay here, Doctor, but say nothing of the letter.”


	2. A Little Background

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holmes and Watson learn a little about the missing person.
> 
> This was meant to be 500 words but I couldn't stop and now have no idea how to break it into chapters! Here's a small one while I work on my transitions.

Holmes tucked the letter into his dressing gown pocket as we heard Elion Dialas’ tread on the stair. While nearly as tall as Holmes, there was a lesser sense of athleticism and a greater sense of scholastic pursuits. A still youthful face despite streaks of silver in his dark hair gave the sense that this was a person who had managed to live life through work and determination tempered with wisdom. Mr. Dialas strode forward, not seeing Holmes at all, and grasped my hand. “Mr. Holmes-” He began.

“I am Mr. Holmes. That is my trusted friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, who may prove invaluable to you.” Holmes said, moving forward from the mantle. 

Mr. Dialas started before shaking hands again and apologizing for the error.

Holmes bid our guest enter, offering the chair nearest the fire and a drink. Our guest appeared to be little comforted by this, instead coming to the point of his visit as he sat. “Mr. Holmes, I won’t mince words. A friend of mine is missing and possibly in danger and I want your help to find her.”

Mr. Dialas’ tone was genuine beneath his smooth accent, and his eyes never left Homles’. Whether or not Holmes felt the statement was authentic I could not tell, as he leaned back in his basket chair with his filled pipe and motioned our foreign client to continue.

“The facts are these,” Continued our guest. “A few years ago, in Niagara, I made the acquaintance of a Miss Erna Clark. We had mutual friends and delighted in each other’s company. While she would have been willing to marry me, I felt she deserved better and told her from the first days of our friendship that I would never ask her to bind herself to me. Her past, which is not mine to reveal and I doubt has any impact on this matter, inclined her to agree with me to protect our freedoms.” 

Here he paused, the silence filled by the crackling of the fire. Holmes, whose eyes had narrowed nearly to closing, lit his pipe and flicked the match away, gestured for Dialas to continue. “My work, community interest and personal challenges frequently led me to pull away and not see or even write to Erna sometimes for weeks at a time. She stuck true to me, though. Until last winter. She ceased her communications, though would answer if I reached out to her. A few months ago, I sought to make amends, though I see that there is no future for us. I learned from her family that she had left with no notice of where she was going, leaving no forwarding address. Erna is of a sensitive and at times anxious temperament, and I am concerned that this sudden shift if a sign of serous distress or ill health. The little thing was too afraid to travel alone! She would never disappear, I am sure of it.”

At this, the match that Holmes had carelessly thrown away succeeded in setting fire to the side of our client’s shoe, with flames beginning to creep up his trouser leg. In a flash Holmes leapt up and smothered the flames with a blanket before Mr. Dialas could come to harm. It was unlike Holmes to be so careless, and as he soothed Mr. Dialas and poured him another drink, I couldn’t help but think that there must be something far greater to this mystery. Holmes had the incredible power to observe at a glance far more than I ever could, and could only be fully distracted from his surrounding by an important insight into a case. 

After accepting Holmes’ apologies, Mr. Dialas returned to his story. “I have managed to trace Erna here to London, where the trail went cold. She has no friends in this part of the world, but has managed to disappear without a trace. My only thought is that she left due to some great mental trouble, but now is somehow being held against her will, though no demands have been made to her family.”

“How did you know she had left the country?” I asked.

“She was seen boarding a ship for Spain,” Mr. Dialas replied. “Her father had sent word to the police about her disappearance, and the ship itself had been searched when it was discovered that she had booked a first class room on it. The cabin, however, was never occupied. The ship was searched again for her when it docked, before the passengers had a chance to disembark. Meanwhile, I felt there would be a better chance of her attempting to flee to a country where she better knew the language, and managed to find a sailor who swore on his life that he had seen her board a ship for England. However, there was no one answering to her appearance on board when I enquired in England.”

“Quite a deception for someone suffering the influence of mental disturbance,” Holmes remarked.

“It is a paranoia I can’t explain, it’s almost as if she’s afraid. But what does she have to flee from?” Mr. Dialas asked. 

“What indeed,” Holmes mused. “How did she get the means to leave the country?”

“She works as a dressmaker’s assistant, though what she had earned from that could not have lasted so long. While her family is a moderately wealthy one, all swear they did not enable her flight.”

Holmes remained silent. At length he asked, “Have you been asked to find the lady by her family?”

“I have their blessing to go.”

“But they did not ask you.”

At this Mr. Dialas was quiet. “I couldn’t sit around and wait for the police to act while Erna was possibly in danger from herself. Her parents are confident that the police will succeed, but I feel that someone who knows her would be able to talk her out of this brain storm she’s in. She needs safety and a friend, not an institution or a cell.”

There was another silence. 

“Will you take the case, Mr. Holmes? What funds I have are at your disposal.”

“You will need your funds to return home, eventually,” Holmes said. “But this is a pretty problem that I shall need to reflect on before I commit to solving it for you.”

At this Mr. Dialas rose to his feet. “Do you feel that she is in no danger, then?” He asked.

“If she is, then she appears willy enough to evade harm while I gather data, if she is able to evade her family, a devoted friend and the police. Do nothing in the mean time.”

“You wish me to do nothing?”

“No. I want you to reflect on what could have enabled her to travel so far. There may be links to a sympathetic and wealthy friend, possibly with ties to both Niagara and London. We shall contact you when we have decided on your case. Have you her photograph?”

“Yes.”

“Kindly leave it behind.”

Recognizing the finality of Holmes’ tone, Mr. Dialas shook his head and rose to his feet, setting a photograph cut from a newspaper down on the table. After he had left, I turned to Holmes, who was still smoking his pipe. 

“Well, Watson?” Holmes asked. “What did you think?”


	3. An Analysis of Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up from yesterday. Holmes and Watson untangle motivations. 
> 
> Brace for so much, so much, dialogue.
> 
> Thank you!

“Well, Watson?” Holmes asked. “What did you think?”

“I think Mr. Dialas is very concerned, and his faith is touching.” I replied. “He must be feeling a great deal of guilt to follow the lady so far to ensure her safety, which causes me to suspect their interactions in the past. I suspect there is a something he is not telling us, but unless he means her harm, I cannot see why. Is that what the letter was attempting to convey?”

“Were Mr.Dialas the source of danger, I am certain the letter would have referenced him by name. That is, only ‘if’ the letter were speaking about this disappearance, which I am convinced it is. That the lady did not mention her own name suggests that she is afraid I shall act against her, or that the danger pursuing her is a great and possibly lawful one.”

“You think she is a criminal?”

“No. But one does not need to break the law to be considered against the law.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The lady, while free and technically within her own rights, has fled. She is, by all rights, missing property and potentially a loss of resources. I am inclined to think she must have a greater fortune than Mr.Dialas is willing to admit. Any property or wealth she owns is not hers, if she had a husband then the law would side with him and place her and all she posses in his power, where as unmarried her father would have the greatest control over her. A sudden influx of wealth may have motivated her to seize her liberty and bolt, much to the fury of her kin or our client.”

“Would Mr.Dialas have know of this danger from her family and lied? Or do you suppose the danger comes form him?”

“I think not. He seems honest to a degree, but not entirely. You remember he said he had been given liberty to find the lady by her family?”

“Yes,” I said, slightly confused. “And that they were involving the police.”

“Then I call your attention to two points. Firstly, the fact that there have been no missing persons advertisements answering to a young lady from over seas, or any young lady at all within the last month. Meaning that the family has not been in touch with England’s police force. Secondly, what do you think of her photograph?”

I picked up the clipping. It showed a woman posing in a somewhat theatrical dress, a slight smile on her features. While not a true beauty, she looked kind and intelligent, with a slight sparkle in her eye. “I can deduce little from this.” I said.

Holmes shook his head. “If Mr. Dialas had been given permission by the lady’s family to find her, would they really have sent him off with a newspaper cutting to identify her? This costume she is wearing suggests wealth. A family of means would have used the clearest portrait in the home, not a cutting from...”

Holmes pulled the paper form my fingers, examining it closely. “... A charity fundraiser. Note the set. No photographic studio would allow itself to use such a background, and no theatre would stoop to such an amateur backdrop. The nautical theme and flamboyant outfit would suggest this this was taken while the lady in question was playing a role. Look closely at her hands, Watson! What do you see?”

Bending closer to the cutting in Holmes’ fingers, I could just see a deck of cards in the lady’s hands.

“Unless I am mistaken,” Said Holmes, “Mr. Dialas either decided the best photograph of the lady he is searching for was one from a newspaper in which she was playing the role of ‘Little Buttercup’ in H.M.S Pinafore, or the photograph is a foolish blind. I am inclined to think the former.”

“Why, Holmes?”

“Because he genuinely wants Miss. Clarke found. I don’t feel that he has any true hold over her, although I retain a lingering suspicion that they may have secretly married, for all his talk of freedoms. It may be possible he wishes to locate her before her family seeks to reclaim their lost property, especially if there is some doubt to his hold over her.”

“He claims none,” I reminded Holmes.

“I suspect he is himself unaware of his full motives. You recall he told us he felt the lady deserved better when he rejected her kindness, despite loving her truly. What did you make of that?”

“It is a noble idea,” I responded, before Holmes cut me off with a snort.

“And a common lie. If he truly cared for the lady more than himself then nothing would prevent him from making himself worthy of her affections. He feels it far more comfortable, or at least familiar, to be the victim and never worthy of love than to exert the effort to overcome his shadows. I am amazed the lady tolerated this attitude for as long as she had!”

“You think he has deceived himself?”

“It is likely. He may be unwilling to look inward at his actions and himself in an honest light, which would colour nearly every one of his statements. We shall have to be cautious in believing what he tells us, especially when even he believes what he says. In addition, he appears to be a fellow of intense focus upon one point and utterly oblivious to all else. This, coupled with his lack of reflection, will greatly influence his views and what he shares. You noticed, of course, how limited his focus was?”

“I admit I did not.” I said.

Holmes smiled at this. “Your works, while romantic, have given the general population a sketch of my appearance. There is little likelihood that someone could mistake me for you, particularly while you wear that moustache, but that is exactly what Mr. Dialas did. He was entirely, short sightedly focused. I decided to test this idea of mine with the help of a very carelessly thrown match. The results of which would most likely have ended in the extreme harm of Mr. Dialas before he realized he was alight.”

“That was unworthy of you, Holmes!” I said.

Holmes waved my words away with a gesture. “The man is fine! It is Miss Clark’s safety that may be in jeopardy. If she is willing to take drastic measured to ensure her freedom, as she suggests in the letter, then there must be something after her. Something greater than simply the threat of a loss of wealth. That she did not take her former friend into her confidence suggests she does not trust him or that she did not wish to put him in danger.”

“What will you do now? You will not pursue her?” I asked.

“No. We shall ascertain the lady’s whereabouts and wellbeing, if need be offering protection. This will require very delicate detective work, particularly if she suspects we are on her trail. I shall work my way through the docks and attempt to see if she was spotted. In addition, I highly doubt the fellow who delivered the letter from Miss Clark was as innocent of the whole business as he appears. No doubt the Baker Street detective force can make discreet inquiries.” 

“How do you propose we prevent Mr. Dialas from attempting to search for the lady?” I asked. “If he has travelled this far, he is not likely to be content to idly wait.”

“The trail is cold. Having put the matter before us, there is little he can do but wait. should he become restive, there can be no harm in actually sending him to Spain to investigate. I highly doubt the lady dared a double-blind and escaped there after all. In the mean time, I suggest we call on him again in a few days with further questions, as he left his address on the back of his card.”

“You are taking his case?” I asked in surprise. 

“No,” said Holmes. “I am taking the lady’s.”


	4. Another Clark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Holmes delicately investigates the lady's case.
> 
> The Maid's Chain was not in any of the books, I know, but I love the idea of a whisper being passed through the halls, to the kitchen, over the garden wall to the neighbouring cook, to the chambermaid, to the next house through the nurse as she takes her charges around the block for a stroll, and eventually to Mrs. Hudson. I choose to believe it is secretly cannon.

“You are taking his case?” I asked in surprise. 

“No,” said Holmes. “I am taking the lady’s.”

~~~~

“She asked you not to intervene.”

“I am not investigating her.”

As he spoke, Holmes was throwing on his coat and hat. “If she is in danger, we can at least identify that danger. Should this be a case of ‘missing property’, as we are not agents of the police, we have no duty to return her to her family or Mr. Dialas. I am going to speak to several allies I have amongst the dock workers and, with luck, locate Wiggins.”

As Holmes vanished into the chill of the evening, I sat by the fire and pondered our case. What Holmes had said rang true, and I could see the possibility of Mr. Dialas’ being a shortsighted and possibly deceitful suspect. It occurred to me that unless Mr. Dialas could somehow provide the identity of Miss Clark’s English accomplice, then the next stop would be to search the streets. It was a cold and lonely world when homeless and friendless, and I sincerely hoped that the lady was in a safe place. 

~~

Holmes returned late that night after I had retired and was already fully clothed and waiting at the breakfast table when I rose. “I visited Mr. Dialas after catching up with Wiggins,” Holmes said. “I ascertained the name of the ship he believes Miss Clark sailed on and managed to obtain a passenger list. If she was onboard, she sailed under a different name. I haven’t been able to find a soul amongst the crew at the docks to swear that they had seen her disembark. The ship itself, with its original crew, had already departed England.”

“I assume you set Wigging to patrol the streets?” I asked.

“Indeed. Any news of a newcomer is to be reported back to me, with the utmost discretion.”

“You feel that she has not left London, then?"

“It would be far easier to hide amongst the masses in London. Few notice a new face in such a city. However, I feel the lady would flee if pressed, even while hidden successfully. She may lie low for a short time and seize her change to bolt. If truly trapped, I fear she may make good her threat, so we must tread carefully.”

The next few days passed quietly. There was no news from Wiggins and no further revelations from Mr. Dialas, who wrote once to ask if Holmes would take the case on. Again Holmes deferred, citing the need for more time and information. Holmes seemed torn between the irritation that is born of stagnation of a case and intrigue at the willy lady for being so able to avoid detection. I felt further and further that the lady must surely be living with some confidant, if indeed she remained in the city, but Holmes waved the idea away. “I have employed the Maid’s Chain,” he said, referring to the network of maid servants, scullery maids, ladies maids and occasional housekeepers that made up a great underground current of information. Little passed through the households of the middle and upper classes that Holmes could not uncover in a moment. Holmes restricted his use of the Maid’s Chain to emergencies and delicate matters. Domestic crimes, political scandals and horrors that would otherwise have been unreported were quietly dealt with, with no suspicion or consequence to the working women, who benefited from the sense of protection through the chain. “Had she entered a house seeking shelter, we would have come to hear about it by now.”

“You fear she is on the streets, then?”

“Perhaps, though she might-”

His thought was interrupted by a knock on our front door. “Perhaps that is Wiggins!” I said.

“We both know Wiggins is not the type to knock,” Holmes observed dryly as he darted to the window. Sure enough, it was a tall and professional looking man who stood at our door. A moment later, Billy brought in a card upon a silver tray. “Charles Clark. Well, well. This may be enlightening.”

“I take it we shall not mention any of what we know,” I said.

“Correct, Watson. We shall let Mr. Clark take the lead. If his character is as authentic as Mr.Dialas we shall say nothing to him. As her family, presumably brother, he may have his own interests in this.”

Mr. Clarke proved to be different from Mr. Dialas. He seemed to be reluctant to be in our rooms, though his nerved did not appear to be due to guilt or deception. Waived to a chair by our host, he began with a simple introduction. “My name is Charles Clark. I’ve come to ask you to locate my sister, Erna.”

“You are certain she is in England?” Holmes asked.

“Yes. We enlisted the help of the police shortly after we discovered her absent. They found a lead that said she had sailed to Spain and one saying England. The former idea came to nothing. The latter seemed more promising.”

“Why have you come?”

Holmes’ blunt question shocked our guest into silence for a moment. “I don’t know when you mean.”

“Truly?” Holmes pressed, leaning back and narrowing his eyes at our guest. “It is a great distance to travel to locate your sister when you are not even sure what country she is in. A letter would have traveled as fast, yet here you are. The English police have doubtlessly been informed of your runaway, did your family feel that you would have greater success than they in locating her?”

Mr. Clarke remained silent. Holmes continued.

“There is more to this. I take it you are not the only one pursuing the lady.”

“There is a former friend of hers, a Mr.Dialas, who is also looking for her. They were very close at one time, though I never met him.”

“Is it he you are protecting your sister from?”

“Yes.”

Holmes was quiet for a moment. “Mr. Clark, I fear that your sister may be in danger. Now is not a time for falsehoods. What caused your sister to flee?”


	5. An Unfavourable Impression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Mr. Clark presents his reasons for his sister's flight. Mr. Clark Sr enters with his own version of events.

At this there was an authoritative knock at the door, followed by a confident peal of the bell. Mr. Clark jumped at this, his face slightly pale. Holmes sprang to the window, beckoning Mr. Clark to the window. “I take it you were not the only family member to take this voyage.”   
A white haired gentleman stood on the stoop, a faint resemblance between him and our taller guest was visible. Mr. Clark paled further before bursting into hurried speech. “Mr. Holmes, my sister fled to protect her freedom. She has many friends among artists, musicians and other bohemian types. She admired their lives and wanted to live freely as they do. Our father would not hear of it. He viewed her attraction to this unconventional lifestyle as a sign of supreme disobedience, and was making plans to have my sister committed to an asylum. All for being unconventional! She has always been so, but hidden it so as to be more accepted by others, including ourselves. She was never viewed as a success. Before she could be committed, we learned from the family solicitor that she and I were to inherit a great deal through a recently deceased relative. I advanced her some funds to enable her escape from the country until the fortune became hers and did all I could to slow our father in pursuing her.”

At this Billy brought in the elderly visitor’s card, the learned and wealthy title on the card causing Holmes to arch an eyebrow before gesturing for Billy to wait. “You were in sympathy with your sister?”  
“I would have chosen an entirely different profession had I the support to do so, though the family business of fruit export in the Niagara area is a lucrative one,” He said. “My sister and I have not always seen eye to eye, but we have come to understand one another. She could never deserve a caged life and would sooner die than be committed.”

Holmes listened, before motioning Billy to send the gentleman up. “Not a word of what you have told me, let us hear your father’s version of events,” Holmes warned.

Mr. Clark had managed to hide his anxiety when his father entered the room. Mr. Clark Senior expressed mild surprise at seeing his son, but nodded with a benign understanding on his face. “Ah, Charles, I thought you had intended to go with me to Mr. Holmes tomorrow. I didn’t realize you were so worried. I finished telling the police here about our puzzle, and thought to engage Mr. Holmes without delay. The police did not seem particularly interested.”

“This gentleman has only just arrived, and has yet to state his case. I would be delighted to hear what you have to say, and see what assistance I can provide,” Holmes said, beckoning our guests to chairs. As they seated themselves, I took a moment to study the elder Mr. Clark. While no longer the robust figure he must have been in his youth, there lingered a sense of utter authority about the slightly wizened figure. I had the impression that any conflicting views would be immediately condemned as wrong despite all proof, so lordly was the look in the elder’s eyes. A thick white beard obscured most of the lower half of his face, but dark eyes projected a commanding presence. 

The elder Clark’s statement was far closer to Mr. Dialas’ story. He emphasized the unusual behaviour of the lady, leaving her comfortable home and living to vanish, as a sign of potentially dangerous disturbance. “I had hoped she would marry. Perhaps that would have steadied her,” Sighed Mr. Clark Sr. “But what eligible single men she encountered never made a lasting impression. I fear her mother encouraged her to wait too long, as each courtship ended after a few years before it had even begun! I suspect the influence of her ‘artistic’ friends, who may have somehow deluded her into this mad flight.”

He turned suddenly to his son. “What do you think?”

The younger man started slightly. “It is possible.”

“She was far different before. She ought never have gone into trade. It was her mother’s suggestion and she simply wound’t listen to reason.” “Your daughter didn’t wish to work?” Holmes asked, feigning disinterest.

“Oh, surely she would have preferred to do nothing, but her mother has always had a greater influence on her, regrettably. Erna was determined.”

“You are certain there are no friends in England?”

“I am. Erna rarely to never received letters, and none of these were from overseas.”

“What would you do if your daughter were located?” Asked Holmes.

The elder man appeared agitated at the question. “As she is clearly unwell, she would some home and stay under the care of a doctor until her reason returned.”

“If she is truly unwell, you would keep her at home?” Holmes continued.

“I am wealthy enough that she will always have a safe home staffed with whatever medical professionals are needed,” Mr. Clark Sr said, with a low voice and final tone.

Holmes remained silent for a time. With a slight impatience, Clark Sr prompted him. “Do you think you can find my daughter, Mr. Holmes, and return her to us?”

“Perhaps,” said Holmes. 

“Name your price.”

“I have no price.”

“What do you mean?” asked Mr. Clark Sr.

“I shall endeavour to find Miss Clark and ensure that she is well. I see no reason to force her to return to her home. It is possible that this is merely a whim and a chance to travel the world. I would have thought that the most likely reason for all this, and girlish fancy the reason for her lack of notice to you. To involve the police so soon suggests a scandal, whether the lady is indeed unhinged or simply playing truant. That you so quickly let to the idea of escape on the lady’s part suggests, perhaps, conditions at home that the lady would prefer not to return to.”

At this, the elder Clark’s face darkened and he rose. “What you are suggesting is a lie. I love my daughter and will do everything in my power to protect her. With or without your help.” At this he turned and stalked for the door, his son shooting a pleading glance back at us as he followed his father.


	6. Billy's Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billy's idea helps get Holmes on the right track, and things start to wrap up.
> 
> Yesterday ran away from me, and it was either take the night off writing or stay up last to cough up garbage simply to say I wrote. So, I took a day. One more to go, folks!

At this, the elder Clark’s face darkened and he rose. “What you are suggesting is a lie. I love my daughter and will do everything in my power to protect her. With or without your help.” At this he turned and stalked for the door, his son shooting a pleading glance back at us as he followed his father.

“Your thoughts, Watson?” Holmes asked.

~~

“I think that the younger Clark seems more truthful,” I said. “Although it was interesting how frequently both the Clark men referred to Miss Clark by their relation.”

“Indeed,” replied Holmes. “Both see her through their connection to her, not as an individual but as a resource and entered around themselves. Her father referred to her by name when thinking of her willfulness and disobedience, particularly when blaming her mother. I think we would be right to assume that Mrs. Clark has been working hard to ensure her daughter does not follow in the her own footsteps.” 

“So you do not believe the idea that this case is a result of girlish fancy, as you said?”

“Not at all. But I thought it best to suggest to Clark Sr that there really is no case, so there may fewer repercussions if the lady is found. It is possible that her family, much like Mr. Dialas, does not fully recognize their own motives. Her father may mostly believe that he follows Miss Clark purely out of love and concern for her, but his reaction to my implications about her home life show that he, at least, is aware of a secondary motive. Partially surrounding her fortune, but most likely out of a need for control of this around him. You could see it extend to his son. It is rare that a grown man is so easily cowed by their own father, but the young Clark could be a schoolboy trotting at the master’s heels by the way be obeys Clark Sr.”

“How are you to find her, Holmes?” I asked. “The Baker Street Division and the Maid’s Chain have come up with nothing. It is unlikely that the police could do better.”

“It is so uncommon of my sleuths not to pick up the trail that I am beginning to think the lady has left the country after all,” replied Holmes, slowly. “Unless she is hiding in some institution already, in which case it may be kinder to leave her there until her father has left the country...”

Holmes paused, rising to stand beside the mantlepiece. Suddenly he struck the mantle with hid hand, whirling to face me. “It won’t do, Watson! The lady cannot have vanished into thin air!”

Not having any ideas myself, I opened my mouth to say something comforting when there was another knock on the sitting room door. “Enter!” cried Holmes, eagerly. 

Billy stepped into the room. “Pardon me, Mr. Holmes, but something just occurred to me about the stranger who delivered the letter to you a few days ago.”

“What, Billy?” asked Holmes.

“Well, I couldn’t see the bottom of his face, sir, as I said, but he did look a bit like the young man you had in just now.”

“You’re certain it was not the same person?” I asked.

“Very certain, sir,” Billy replied promptly. “His eyes were dark. The mad who delivered the letter had light eyes, and was a foot shorter or more, besides.”

“Did he look anything like this, Billy?” demanded Holmes, snatching the newspaper cutting form his pocket and holding it up to Billy, using his hands to cover the dress and long hair.

“It’s difficult to say, what with the picture smiling, but I’d say it is, sir. They look very much alike, far more than he looked like your young caller.” 

“A lead, Watson!” Holmes’ eyes flashed and I felt a leap of hope that our mission would not be a failure. “Quick, Billy, run to the corner and flag down one of the Baker Street Irregulars, tell them I know they are shielding Miss Clark in the guide of a man. I am not interested in her capture, only her wellbeing.”

Billy darted to the door and down the stairs. From the window I could see him dash down the street into a crowd of street urchins. Aster a brief conference, they scattered down the street.

I turned back to Holmes, who was again studying the photograph. “I should have realized from this that it was our client in disguise at the door.” “What do you mean, Holmes?”

“The part of Buttercup is frequently played by Mezzo Soprano singers. Many of whom are trained in male costume, as Mezzo roles are usually in the category of the villian, the witch or the young man. Imitating a male enough to fool the police would be a simple task, so many are caught up in the trappings and costumes rather than the faces.”

“How will you approach her, Holmes?” I asked. “Her letter stated clearly the path she planned to take if she were caught.”

“Wiggins, the Irregulars and the Maid’s Chain know I keep my word. They will not betray her to us, as all see fit to protect her, so they shall deliver her our message. Should she desire to flee, they will help her faster than we could catch her.”

It was several hours later, as night as falling, that Wiggins appeared on our step, with a small group of Irregulars. They seemed ill at easy, even the proud Wiggins.

“Now Wiggins, do you have a message for me?” Asked Holmes.

Wiggins said nothing. “You know we will not apprehend the lady. Miss Clark is guilty of no crime, and we shall do all in our power to keep her free.”

Wigging dropped his gaze for a moment before looking back at Holmes. “There’s some lessons out near the docks. Basic teachin’, open fer all. T’morrer at two. We’ll bring you.”

At that the entire company turned and fled down the stairs. “Lessons. Hmm... This may be interesting,” mused Holmes.


	7. Wiggins' Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Success! Last chapter of this story, though the characters may return. 
> 
> Traveled unexpectedly last night, so missed another day, but still completed my challenge.   
Thanks to my friends for the support! You know who you are.
> 
> cheers  
xoxo

Two o’clock the next day found Holmes and I following Wiggins at a distance down a dingy side street. Holmes wore the garb of a dock worker, his usual gentleman’s appearance would have made him stand out in these dingy surroundings. I had traded my usual attire for my military uniform. It’s worn appearance served to disguise me well. Wiggins disappeared down a narrow alley, falling into step behind two gentleman who looked like street cleaners. When we rounded the corner, we entered a shabby courtyard full of lower class citizens. Many of the windows and doors leading onto the courtyard were open, with loiterers talking to one another. Holmes and I took up a spot near the alley’s entrance. As the clock struck two, a slender youth with collar length hair appeared, calling out a greeting in a smooth accented voice. They proceeded to adjust some empty crates against one wall, perching hand made and painted wooden blackboards against them. The lesson that followed was mainly focused on literacy, not delivered in a truly professional manner, but accessible. The citizens listened closely, many clumsily copying what was being shown on the boards into scraps of paper or wood. 

I studied the youth as the lesson progressed. There were some similarities between young Mr. Clark and the young lady in disguise, but they were faint. They seemed confident and intelligent, constantly glancing towards the entrances into the courtyard as if keeping watch while managing to spot a confused expression in the crowd and doing their best to ensure none were left out of the lesson. 

After the literacy, to my surprise, followed a brief history lesson and a far more detailed section on law. This appeared to be what the adult students were interested in, many asking questions that the youth was sometimes forced to consult a text on. Many of the children had drifted away by this time, but I caught sight of Wiggins across the space. He nodded to Holmes, who returned a placating gesture. Wiggins smiled and nodded again, disappearing with the rest of his company. 

At the end of an hour, the lesson ended, with many approaching the lady in disguise with thanks and further questions. Holmes and I lingered, waiting until the crowd had thinned. Holmes shambled up, still in the guise of a workman. The lady’s eyes immediately fastened on him, and I knew in an instant that his disguise had been useless. He offered a placating gesture at her narrowed eyes, moving to stand a little off to the side. At this she relaxed slightly, finishing putting the rough blackboards back on the ground as she answered questions. At last, when the last of the students left and the inhabitants retreated back indoors, she approached us, while keeping well out of arm’s reach. “Clark?” Holmes asked.

“I am. It is nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes. And,” she said as she turned to look at me, “to meet Dr. Watson.”

“Wiggins told you our message. We mean you no harm, but can be of great help to you if you will let us.”

“If you mean no harm, why this disguise?”

“Amongst some of the criminal classes I am rather unpopular. Going as myself, I doubt I would have safely made it to your class.”

Miss Clark was silent. “So what now?”

“Now, we humbly invite you to dinner. I suspect there are a few details as to your adventure that we do not know. Afterwards, if you agree, we will call over a friend and colleague of mine, Lestrade, and bring him in to the case before approaching the police.”

“What?”  
At this the lady stepped back, clearly prepared to run.

“To call off their search, not to bring you to them,” Holmes said in a rush. “Watson and I are acting for you, I will answer for Lestrade. With our influence and your own statement, there will be nothing to prevent you from living a free life.”

The lady looked between Holmes and I, before nodding. 

“Then, if you accept our invitation, we shall see you at seven. It shall give all of us ample time to change back into our traditional costumes.”

~~

The rest of the case passes as Holmes said. Lestrade was encouraged to help, partially by the lavish supper and ready charm Holmes provided at dinner, and the police search for Miss. Clark was dropped. Holmes managed to convince the force of the potential danger Miss. Clark was in should she be forced to return to Niagara, with the result that she was under no obligations to return. Her sanity was proven and her family were further barred from attempting to force her home, with the exception of her mother, who is, even now, on her way overseas to England. 

After the dinner, Miss Clark explained how she had not taken the funds her brother offered, instead managing to obtain an advance on a small part of her inherritance. After cutting her hair, she boarded the Spanish ship, changed into her male costume and disembarked without entering the cabin she had reserved. Changing back into her female clothes, she boarded the English vessel and slipped into third class, hiding amongst the people there and befriending many. Upon arrival in London and again donning her disguise, she had further made friendships after using knowledge of the law to protect a widow from the grip of an underhanded broker. The reputation this earned spurred her to share her knowledge of law with those around her who, ignorant of their own rights, were frequently abused by the police and those of higher station. This endeared her to many, with the unspoken agreement that she would be protected. Those that had encountered her in both costumes were silent when the search for the lady began, though few were inclined to aid the policies the search for missing property. 

When asked how she had managed to recognize us both, and stay hidden, Clark laughed. The lady had taken residence under our very noses, across the street! The empty and slightly derelict building provided an excellent view of our apartments, allowing the lady to retreat after delivering her letter before Mr. Dialas arrived. She was able to observe him leaving, and also later the arrival of her family. Her friends in Niagara had alerted her when her family and former friend set off in pursuit by telegram left for a fictitious Mr. Kroft at the post office.

She has now taken up residence in a far nicer flat a few door down from our own. Holmes has since had her over to tea with us, occasionally using her for the same sort of sounding board that I serve when I am on my rounds. Mrs. Hudson thinks her a dear, and she is always welcome here. While I had never expected that Homes would form even the most distant of friendships with a woman, Erna’s short hair and frequently masculine dress may serve to distract from her gender. She claims that male costume is far more comfortable and practical, though I suspect she may also be hoping to someday come along on one of our cases. We have had several pleasant days, while Holmes was out, discussing his past successes. 

I suspect the willy lady will be a welcome addition to our team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to friends and kudos givers!


End file.
